In 2014, Owen Williams’ mother, the writer and musician Charlotte Greig, took her own life while suffering from cancer. At the wake, a stranger told Williams he should write a song for his mum. It took Williams more than a decade to find the right words. “Well, whoever the hell you are, I’m sorry, I guess this is it,” he sings on “Strange”, the bruising final song on The Tubs’ superb second album, Cotton Crown.
“Strange” is one of those songs that could be a short story or poem but is given added potency when set to music. Everything that makes The Tubs interesting can be found in the song – the addictive jangle of the music, the sheen of darkness behind the melody and the lyrical concision of Williams, who writes a song about writing a song that is exorcism, confession and accusation all at once.
It’s difficult to imagine having to confront such a personal subject in such a public manner, but that, after all, is what art is all about. There’s a photo of Charlotte on the album cover. She is in a graveyard, cradling an infant. The picture is a promotional shot for her eerie 1998 folk debut, Night Visiting Songs, and the child is Owen, who went on to form Welsh indie-pop experimentalists Joanna Gruesome. Three members of Joanna Gruesome are in The Tubs – Williams, guitarist George Nicholls and Max Warren on bass – while Joanna Gruesome’s original lead singer, Lan McArdle, sings backing vocals on several tracks.
But where Joanna Gruesome could be delightfully impenetrable, hiding behind a screen of screaming, noise and feedback, The Tubs are more confident about being approachable. It’s that classic indie combination: lyrics for the heart and soul, music for the feet and guts, as Williams sings fetchingly of self-hate and personal failure while Nicholls flays the guitar and the rhythm section pound a spry beat. The Smiths are one touchstone and “Narcissist” even begins with a drumbeat intro reminiscent of “This Charming Man”, while Williams make a romantic appeal to an individual who might be a sociopath but at least offers an alternative to solitude in one of London’s lonely rooms.
The Tubs’ 2022 debut, Dead Meat, was a nine-track janglethon with fantastic melodies and folk inflections that saw Williams compared to Richard Thompson. Those elements are still in place, but Cotton Crown is more firmly in the power-pop vein, recalling The Go-Betweens, Elvis Costello, The Clash, Pretenders and Sugar as well more distant forbears like The Byrds.
But it’s The Smiths that most often spring to mind. The Marr-like cascading chimes of opening number “The Thing Is” introduce one of the leaner songs on the album. Wiliams adopts the role of a feckless lover, one who will abandon their partner in Catford Wetherspoons, but knows they will be able to get away with it. The music mirrors the persuasive charm of the narrator, hooking you in even as the singer boasts they’re a bit of a heel.
It’s a great example of Williams’ skill as a writer and musician. As well as leading The Tubs, Williams edits a literature and poetry magazine called Perfect Angel, plays bass in Porridge Radio and has just released his second album as Ex-Vöid, a duo with McArdle. In fact, Williams plays in half-a-dozen bands, part of an overlapping web of London-based artists called Gob Nation. These include TSG, whose singer is Tubs drummer Taylor Stewart, and Sniffany And The Nits, whose bassist is The Tubs’ Max Warren. Sniffany And The Nits’ guitarist is Matt Green, who runs the studio favoured by Gob Nation bands. He co-produced Cotton Crown and played additional guitar and keyboard. Oh, and Williams is another one of The Nits, on drums this time. It’s all reminiscent of the LA scene that revolves around Ty Segall.
To add to the fun, there’s even a Gob Nation band called Cotton Crown – that’s the name under which Owen Williams records solo songs such as Cotton Crown’s “Freak Mode”. These are more thought-through than a simple demo. On Cotton Crown, “Freak Mode” comes flying out the blocks like something from Sugar’s debut album, but the solo Cotton Crown version is more shoegazey, with acoustic guitar, treated vocals and samples.
There’s something bolder about The Tubs’ simpler version, with Williams enjoying the security provided by Nicholls’ rich guitar tones as he admits to being “a freak in love”. While The Tubs generally stick to their winning formula, they do introduce elements from the other bands in the extended Gob Nation universe. “Illusion” is a more restrained version of the punky approach of Sniffany And The Nits or TSG, while “Chain Reaction” sees Williams adopt a sneerier tone. The abrasive “One More Day” switches between confrontational verses, similar to Sleaford Mods, and a chorus, initially pleading and soothing but increasingly demanding, on which Williams begs for “one more day”.
Most of the songs on Cotton Crown are directed at a lover, and Williams rarely paints himself in favourable terms. On the new wave-ish “Embarrassing”, he’s drinking and taking speed as he waits for a call that will never come. “Know I’ve been an arsehole baby/Know I’ve been such a pain”, he sings on “Fair Enough”, while “Chain Reaction” begins with the confession that “I am a scammer in the world of love”. That makes the poignant “Strange” such a mood shift, particularly when the ever-present guitar suddenly drops out and lets Williams carry the song, folk-style, to honour his mum. “How strange it all is,” he concludes ruefully against a retreating wave of dark synths, and sometimes there’s nothing more to be said.
When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission. Here’s how it works.